


july

by diluc



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap, Romance, Sexswap, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22199269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diluc/pseuds/diluc
Summary: "I might have many a man courting me," Dandelion retorted, smiling, a hot July bursting in her eyes, "but I only sing of you."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 138





	july

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Июль](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184746) by [TheRisingValkyrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRisingValkyrie/pseuds/TheRisingValkyrie). 



> original author's notes:  
> "Headcanon: all love ballads Dandelion performs are allegedly about men. But actually she sings of a certain she-wolf, it's just that people wouldn't get female-to-female ballads. And it wouldn't have been that popular."
> 
> translator's notes: i am alive yes indeed unfortunately. my next few works will probably be translations from russian again so ...jahehajs cyka blyat

Dandelion's eyes were a deep blue, like the sky on a July afternoon. She smelled like daisies and some other essential oils she loved to use - and Gerta nuzzled up against her throat, exhaling more intensively than peppering kisses, fisting the other's long locks lightly. 

Before letting Gerta into her bedding, Dandelion forced her to bathe, surrounded by various herbs and oils. The smells, so foreign to the witcher's sensitive nose, filled up her lungs now. The sheets, too, scented of something floral.

"Ah, how long has it been since our last time, Gertie?" Dandelion might have had a trained and melodious voice, yet under the witcher's touch it morphed into husky, choked-up noises. "A month? A year?"

Gerta didn't know. And for sure, she wasn't here to entartain it any thought.

Dandelion's body was aflush and all hot, her heart throbbing like a bird's, as she burnt the witcher's bone-chillingly icy heart with it, leaving burns under her flesh; reminded her that her biggest fear has already come true: she was needed, and she needed.

She won't confess to it, neither to herself, nor to anybody else.

And then Dandelion sat on the edge of the mattress, strummed lazily upon her lute, singing something to herself. Gerta had closed her eyes listening to the music; no matter what could she have ever remarked about the songstress's voice, but she could never deny her affection towards it.

She didn't sound magical at all, unlike sorceresses; she had no unnatural charms to enchant the listeners into loving her. She was like that the way she was, no theurgy needed.

"Which one of you suitors it is you're singing about?" Gerta inquires, eyes wide open.

Dandelion turned around, tossing her lute aside, cutting the melody off along the way. She climbed back onto the bed, looming over Gerta, hands pushed up against the bedclothes beside her head. Her locks fell against the witcher's face, caressing it.

"I might have many a man courting me," she retorted, smiling, a hot July bursting in her eyes, "but I only sing of you."


End file.
